


Maps and Ale

by TheSpyder



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Benjen should have left him the horse, Bran still traveling from the Wall, Brother/Sister Incest, Drunk Jon, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Uncomfortable Analysis, dark topics, drunk Sansa, oedipus complex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 10:25:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7570567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpyder/pseuds/TheSpyder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Sansa finds Jon looking at a map in their lord's solar, and finally asks him what he see. Sansa gets an answer she doesn't expect and more than she bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maps and Ale

**Author's Note:**

> So this started as an idea for a nice fluff piece with a little bit of angst. Then as wrote it morphed into something darker and started addressing characters in more disturbing character analysis. Not that this is my headcanon analysis of the duo, but my brain went somewhere dark and somehow started remembering a psychology course I haven't take in 5 years. Then it almost devolved into smut, but I don't think I am ready to dark psych-analyzing smut yet... maybe I'll amend this one-shot in the future. I had to stop because I didn't want to see how much darker and creepier my brain was willing to go.
> 
> Maybe you all will read and this and see a hot mess, but I read through it a couple times and there seems to be a coherent story line.
> 
> Oh and here is a link to the map I used:  
> http://gameofthrones.net/images/Westeros_Maps/Map_Westeros_Political.gif

Sansa knocked softly on the door of Jon's solar, where he read over the letters and house ledgers. In truth it was more like both of theirs, each of them spending numerous hours together trying to cobble the North back together. Jon even insisted at every opportunity to remind her that she was Lady Stark and that she had as much if not more right to the room. Sansa appreciated the sentiment, but knew it would not sit well with the lords who raised him as their king. So as an offering of placation she always knocked before she entered.

However like most times when she knocked Jon didn't answer, and so she just had to enter anyway and hope she was not interrupting a meeting. Again though, as she entered and shut the door behind her, Sansa was met with the familiar sight of Jon just staring down at their desk. A map of the North open before him 

Times like these, when Jon was less guarded than usual, made her heart stop for a second. Seeing him sit there in with his brow furrowed in concentration, looking like he is contemplating the problems of the world, he reminded her almost painfully of their lord father. The sight both making her tremble in her loss but also warm it what she had regained.

Jon has still has not noticed her entrance when she speaks, her voice slightly hitched from the storm of emotions upon seeing him, “I always find you in here looking at that map. Especially after a meeting dealing with the Lords that frustrate you.”

Her brother is startled out of his intense reverie at the broken silence, but gives a warm smile when he sees it is her. As she strolls next to his side to look at the map he finds so fascinating, she wonders if they will ever get to a time when Jon's eyes don't light up or it looks light a weight has been lifted from his shoulders at the sight of her. A part of her hopes that time never comes, but reality has taught her not to believe in such things. Still she is glad to see him show such emotion openly to her, even though she knows it is unwise for him to do so, and why she tries to hide her reciprocating ones most of the time.

Wordlessly he hands her his mug of ale as he looks back at the map, a sort of ritual they developed since Castle Black. This time she does have to hide a smile behind the mug as she takes a sip before placing it between them. Thankfully the castle brews a much better ale than the brothers of the night watch, so no unladylike sputtering this time at the taste.

“The map? Even you can only go over battle plans and defenses so many times,” she lightly teases hoping to get him to reveal where his mind goes when he is lost in thought.

Instead of answering her question though, her brother talks about a seemingly unrelated matter, making her turn to him in confusion.

“You know back when the Night's Watch was at its' height, every castle used to be manned. Thousands of men banned together to serve with honor for the defense of the realm,” Jon spoke softly and almost reverently.

“I know a little of that from my lessons, but tales like that were more of interest to you boys... well and Arya,” she answers smiling faintly at the end.

Jon sad smile back reminds her of the close bond he shared with their little sister, and the ache they both feel over her unknown fate. “Aye. The Lord Commander's goal used to be to leave The Wall taller and the watch stronger than when he took the job.”

“What does that have to do with this?” Sansa asks confused, gesturing towards the map.

“When my brothers raised me to Lord Commander...,” Jon started, running a finger across the map, and Sansa wondered if he was picturing it in his mind, “Well the green boy I was thought I, Ned Stark's bastard, could be the Commander that the brought The Wall back to its' former glory. I thought about taking a loan out from the Iron Bank and hiring glass makers from Myr to build glass gardens so the watch could grow its' own food. I wanted to negotiate peace with the Wildlings and settle the new gift, maybe even have them garrison and rebuild some of the other castles along The Wall. I wanted do something good and lasting, something people would think worthy of a boy with Stark blood.”

Sansa didn't know quite what to make of the confession. Her brother who seemed most fit in laying out battle plans or cutting his way through an enemy army, now talking about treaties and building something lasting. Jon had never struck her as the ambitious sort, but then again she did not know Jon well when they were children and ambition is a trait that is frowned upon in bastards... especially bastards with noble blood. Maybe Jon had always been ambitious but was shamed into keeping his dreams a hidden.

'Mother would not have been fond of Jon thinking so' Sansa thought sadly. Once again Sansa was reminded since their reunion what a good man her lady mother and herself dismissed so easily. Jon would have been Robb's strongest supporter and ally if they had been more accepting of him in their home. Instead they allowed him to chain himself to the Wall because he didn't feel welcome in Winterfell.

 

Even more, the way Jon talked about his ambition was not of a selfish nature. Sure part of him wanted to be seen worthy of Stark name through his deeds, but that in itself seemed noble to her. All the rest of his plans seemed to benefit everybody else and the realm.

“I didn't exactly get a chance to do most of that,” Jon said with a pain in his voice and Sansa knew he was thinking back to the black brothers who betrayed him, “and I never thought I would be in a position to do anything of the like again.”

“And then you were raised as King in the North,” Sansa said starting to see where this was going and looking at the map in understanding.

“Aye. Though the title shouldn't be mine,” Jon began, looking over at Sansa, asking for no protests with a look in his eyes. Already having had a few debates on the topic already, nobody was going to win the argument. “I look at this map and think of the things we could do with the North.”

At the mention of 'we' Sansa reached out and laid her hand over top of his on the table and gave it a gentle squeeze. Simple gestures like this came naturally from Jon, and made emotions slip out from her more than she would like. To know Jon thought her an equal made her fill with emotions she hadn't had in a long time, and some she thinks she may never had at all.

Jon looked at their hands in surprise, and turned it around to hold her hand and squeezed back. Looking at her somewhat abashed, “Its' stupid. The Others will be coming for us sooner or later, a Mad Queen who blows up a part of King's Landing with wildfire will not be happy with us, and here I am thinking about things are far off in the future at best. There are more pressing things to talk about.”

“Maybe so,” Sansa agreed and leaned her head onto Jon's shoulder “Still I would to hear these ideas. The Others and Cersi Lannister be damned for awhile.” 

Sansa knew there was more important business for them to attend to, and this sort of talk was of a sort for naive young girls who believed in dashing princes and gallant knights. Even so she wanted to let out that person for awhile. She was slowly beginning to believe she could be that girl around Jon.

Jon chuckled and kissed the top of her head before looking back to the map, “As you wish my lady. I know most of our efforts after the war will be about rebuilding Winterfell and other keeps, getting farmers back into the field, and getting the other six kingdoms to leave us alone...”

Sansa groaned childishly, “I thought you were going to talk about fanciful and pretty ideas. That sounds like work.”

Jon snorted, “As I was saying apart from working on those things, Moat Cailin needs to be rebuilt, strengthened, and constantly garrisoned. Probably either have to raise somebody to a lordship and make that their seat, or I have been thinking about creating a Northern Guard.”

“Again not the sort things I thought you were going to bring up, and we will probably need to man the stronghold soon anyway. What is this Northern Guard idea of yours?” Sansa was slightly disappointed this is where Jon's ideas began. However looking at the map she could see why, Moat Cailin was the only roadway to get to the North, the surrounding area being swamps or heavy forest. If the North were to have independence, a fortified stronghold there was essential.

“Right now the North is a dozen larger houses and a bunch of small ones. The only thing that holds us together is we live in the same region. Apart from feasts, or lords traveling to other keeps, we are all pretty isolated from one another. If we call the banners we get different houses with different levels of training. If we could create something that requires all boys and girls to join the guard for a couple of years, every person from lords to small folk wold be able to fight if need be,” Jon said in an excited tone.

“Girls?” Sansa questioned caught slightly off guard. Not enough to make her move from her comfortable position, but startled nonetheless. “Not saying I am against the idea, but there is some obvious reasons having a stronghold full of young men and women would be trouble. Especially considering Lords possibly putting their daughters in situation like that.”

Jon nodded, “I know concerns like that would need to be worked out, but I uh would like to give girls the same opportunity.”

Sansa turned her head slightly to try to get a read on her brother's expression, “Is this because you are thinking about Arya and how she would want to join something like this?” Sansa tried to keep her voice even when she asked the question, but an unfair insecurity of their new relationship was that she wondered if Jon would have preferred if it was Arya that he was reunited with.

Jon looked thoughtful, “Well that is another reason, but not the one I had. You've seen the Wildling spearwives, many fought in the battle.”

“I have,” Sansa agreed not sure where he was going with this.

“Well most Wildling women are basically spearwives, they all know how to wield a weapon of some sort. The Wildlings have this marriage ritual uh called stealing,” Jon began just realizing what grounds this conversation was going to go with Sansa.

“I'm aware of it,” Sansa remarked with a coolness in her voice that said what she thought of the practice.

“Well when I first heard of the practice I thought it was barbaric,” Jon began and at Sansa's pointed look continued on, “Still do for the most part. However when I once asked a spearwife about being stolen or ending with someone that didn't treat them well, she had that a Wildling woman knew how to take care of someone like that. For the most part I think it works, when I traveled with Mance's army I never heard a complaint of the sort. I think the practice makes the men more respectful and weary of the women around them... a respect I would like all Northmen to have as well.”

Sansa nodded and was speechless at the reasoning. As Jon fumbled at his explanation, she began to suspect that he may have been thinking more about her than Arya when coming up with this idea. When Ramsay had looked at her, all he saw was frightened prey. If she had known how to fight or defend herself, she could have killed him in his sleep. Maybe if all the serving women who looked on her with pity knew something of fighting and killing as well, maybe monsters like Ramsay wouldn't have lasted so long in the world. 

“I uh can understand that,” Sansa said trying to keep her voice calm and reaching for the ale mug for a pull, “That can be worked out later if we need to, but the idea is not a bad one.” Taking another swig to push her feelings on the subject back down Sansa continued, “I thought you were going to tell me nice things like peace and glass gardens, not more about war.”

To punctuate her feelings on Jon to lighten the mood, she passed him back his mug encouraging him to drink. “True enough and my apologies, here look at the map and tell me what is difference is between the North and the rest of Westeros.”

Sansa looked at the map for a second before replying wryly, “It is colder here than the rest of the seven kingdoms.”

“Very funny,” Jon remarked dryly but she could see the corner of his mouth traitorously creep up on him, “but I don't think you can tell cold from looking at a map. The answer is size Sansa, the North by itself is almost of a size of with the rest of Westeros. If we can work out a peace with Free Folk, and claim the lands North of the Wall our kingdom will be bigger.”

Sansa looked at the map for a second before replying, “I agree with trying to agree to peace with the Free Folk, the few I met aren't so bad and would even say their courtesies are of a match with Arya's...”

Jon nearly choked on his ale at that and coughed before shaking his head in feigned disapproval.

“Why would we need or want more lands though? We are a sparse enough people for those we already do have.” Sansa kept looking at the map trying to see the value in the unexplored and treacherous lands of the far North. Fleetingly she wondered if Baelish would be able to figure out what Jon saw, and disliked that she even had to entertain such a notion. Although maybe he did know and was part of the reason he wanted to champion her claim. Frustrated at the mind games she held her hand out in a silent gesture for Jon to giver back the mug.

“Well mainly because when all of our bannermen bluster in outrage I can point to map and tell them we have more than enough land for us all to coexist. That Free Folk and Northmen have killed each other long enough, and could end that. I know we will have to work out the differences between our customs and theirs, and I am hoping if they battle the Others with them side by side they will find common ground. The Free Folk are people to, just like you and I, and I think our ancestors labeled them Wildlings just to make them seem less than human.” 

“Again I agree, but it still doesn't explain your desire to claim the far north. Between the destruction of houses Bolton, Umber, Karstark, and the New Gift there is ample land to settle the Free Folk. Honestly I am surprised our loyal bannermen haven't begged you for a claim of those lands yet.” Sansa said emphasizing the word loyal in disgust. 

Jon smiled at Sansa's disdain. In front of the other lords she was polite and with cool courtesies, but when they were alone she wasn't afraid to say what she thought of the 'The North Remembers.' Jon wasn't quite as harsh in his judgment, but his remembered bastard status always came with take what you can get attitude. Still now that Sansa mentioned those lands, he would have to ask if Sansa agreed with rewarding Lady Mormont with at least part of Last Hearth. 

“Well we will claim those lands to try and work out a peace, at least that is what we will tell most of the lords. However there is another reason I want those lands and peace with the Free Folk. You would only know this if you have lived and traveled among them, but many haves gold and silver arm bands, bronze tools, and even jewels among them.”

Sansa eyes widened and looked thoughtful for a second, “Could be just stuff they have stolen from raiding.”

“Aye and some of it is I am sure. However some of what I have seen are engraved with the runes of the First Men. Also the Free Folk sing songs about long tunnels and underground caves, even been in one myself. There is a possibility there is wealth to be had in the mountains and caves of the far north. The Free Folk have never had the tools or the a reason to mine them. If we could work out a deal with them...,” Jon said in a voice soft but serious with meaning.

Now Sansa was visibly shaking and looked with new eyes at the map, “Potentially we could find a way to pay for the reconstruction of the North.”

Jon nodded and handed the mug back to a still stunned Sansa who took a long gulp while never looking away from the map, “That and most likely much more. I wasn't thinking much about it at the time, but there are so many different mountains and caves the North there could possibly be enough wealth to put Casterly Rock to shame. The lands up there are harsh and unknowable enough to keep away outsiders...”

“Which is why you need the Free Folk. Besides wanting peace you would like them as guides,” Sansa finished as her brain was quickly trying to process this information. Part of her was overwhelmed a the idea with the many things that would need to be worked out. Part of her was stunned that Jon once again proving that he trusted her completely, which made her feel ashamed that she was not quite there with him. The last part quickly realized she would need to get Petyr out of Winterfell and the North before he found out about Jon's hunch.

 

“I wouldn't mention this to anyone else,” Sansa said wanting to affirm her and Jon were on the same page.

Jon looked at her with a look full of meaning, “Your the only one I have mentioned this to, and I hope I am the only one who is even thinking about the far north in these terms.”

“Not even Ser Davos or Tormund?” Sansa asked wanting to be sure but also desperately wanting Jon to reaffirm she was his closest confidant. Something deep inside her yearned for it to be true, to know someone after so many years of mistrust and subterfuge trusted her so

Jon shook his head, “Ser Davos will go back to his island and his family after the war is done, so he has no need to know. Though if this all turns out to be true I would like to send him a considerable sum for the service he has given us. As for Tormund he would tell me stop thinking like a soft southron lord and focus on the war ahead... and as you may have noticed Tormund is not the most settle of men, best not tell him until we are ready to act the plan.”

“Observing his courting techniques with Brienne I would agree. Do you think the Free Folk will agree to work exclusively with you?,” Sansa smiled remembering her sworn shield's discomfort at his advances.

Smiling as well Jon continued, “Well if the rest of the lords continue to show them such hatred certainly. Also we are probably the only party that will not try to advantage of them in the deal. If we want them to become a part of the kingdom we need them to see us as partners.”

“Them seeing you as some sort of god doesn't hurt either,” Sansa put in and put her hand where one Jon's stab wounds were when he gave her a glare. 

Jon looked at her hand and decided against his reply, and instead took her hand and kissed the top of it before taking hold of it again. “Suppose that helps too. Of course we will have to bring in some of the other lords eventually, even if it is just for small folk who want to work and try to earn a better life. We will need Lord Manderly and his expertise to open a port in the far north, and to build transport ships. Also he runs silver mines so he will know the most about mining. Most likely a mining city will evolve from the port and he will demand some grandson of his be made a lord of it. I'm already imaging how red his face will get when I tell him that his grandson will have marry a woman of the Free Folk for that to happen.”

Sansa started to laugh but hiccuped instead, and took another sip of ale. “I want to be there when you make that demand, but prudent trying to forge an alliance between the houses and the Free Folk. Manderly will not protest too much when he considers the potential riches his house stands to gain.” Sansa was thoughtful as she took another sip, subconsciously thinking how good ale was the longer you drank it, and also considering calling a maid to fetch her and Jon another pitcher. “You know you're not so bad at thinking politically,” Sansa said in a compliment, patting Jon's arm affectionately, and her cheeks heating up in what she hoped was the affects of the ale and not the reminder how strong her brother's arm was beneath her touch.

“I think I need need to cut you off,” Jon said smiling reach for the mug only to have Sansa swat his hand away playfully.

“I'm fine and besides it is late, we don't have any duties left to attend to today,” Sansa replied and punctuated it by taking another swallow.

“And when you drink too much and are not able to walk back to your chambers?” Jon asked highly amused.

“You will carry me... if that happens,” Sansa declared bolstered by the ale.

“Will I now?” Jon continued looking intently at Sansa, her cheeks flushed from what he assumed was the ale.

“Yes,” Sansa answered simply and took another sip, “I seem to remember your arms being quite capable when at Castle Black.”

Jon didn't quite know how to reply to that before Sansa looked inside the mug, turning it upside down and shaking it. Jon couldn't quite contain his laughter at his Sansa's clear disappointment at the lack of contents in the mug.

Jon froze, 'my Sansa... where did that come from. Maybe I've had a bit too much myself. The brew must surely be more potent than usual.'

Sansa look from the empty mug to Jon, “We need more ale. Do you have some more in here?”

“Not sure that is a good idea,” Jon started.

“Please,” Sansa said prettily in a tone that would make any man feel like an ass for not giving into her every whim. “Besides I know your not done. Tell me more of what we will build together someday.”

Jon didn't know if it was her pleading tone, his desire to continue this conversation between them, or the way Sansa said 'we' in a way that conveyed that she hoped and longed for it to be true. “You are going to hate me in the morning,” Jon grumbled grabbing the mug and walking over to a side table on surprisingly steady legs. After refilling the mug from the pitcher, he walked back over and handed it back to Sansa.

“Your so good to me,” Sansa giggled, kissed Jon on the cheek, and gestured towards the map, “Continue please.”

Jon reddened and shook his head, taking back the mug for a second for a drink, “Father and Robb would kill me if they saw I allowed you to get this drunk.”

“First off I am not drunk,” Sansa said poking Jon in the chest for emphasis, “And second Robb would be here drinking along with us.”

“And Father?” Jon prodded trying to make a point he wasn't sure of.

Sansa tilted her head as if in thought before looking at Jon's face intently, “Father would be disappointed, but he would trust you to protect me. To be my strong, kind, gentle defender.”

As the words came out of her mouth Sansa handed him the mug, and looked back at the her cheeks still reddened.

Jon took a swallow and not knowing how to respond to that, spilled out “I want to build a road.”

“What?!” Sansa said looking back to Jon and forgetting her embarrassment. Also in forgetting her embarrassment took back the mug. “We have the Kingsroad.”

Nodding Jon continued, glad to be back on safer topics, “Yeah, but it is almost the only one. As I mentioned we're too isolated from one another, so I would like to see a road built to every major house. It would make trade and transporting goods easier. Also if there are more roads we can set up patrols with the Northern Guard to keep bandits at bay and enforce Justice in the kingdom.” 

Once again Sansa looked at the map intently while drinking from the mug, “Maybe I should start looking at maps when I am frustrated at the lords too. Come up with a plan for world domination or something.”

At that Jon threw back his head and howled with laughter, which soon had Sansa joining in as well. After they were done Sansa punched him in the arm playfully, “Don't think I can do it.”

Jon wiped a tear from his eye shaking his head, “No, I do.”

“What's so funny then?”

“When you said that I got an image of eleven year old you planning a conquest, but doing so to bring lemon trees, singers, and knights to the North. You looked pretty and fierce wearing a silk gown and clutching a lemon in your hand,” Jon said gasping for breath.

“You may be on to something with the lemon trees, when we build glass gardens all around the North... by the way I am stealing your idea for the Night's Watch and expanding it, we will require at least one lemon tree be planted in each one,” Sansa said proudly exclaiming her contribution to their Grand Northern Plan.

“And the singers, and the knights?” Jon questioned and taking a pull from ale, happy to see the Sansa's exuberance at the mention of lemons. In truth he had planned to have glass gardens built in at least every major house to start with, but he was okay with it being Sansa's idea.

“Knights and singers have always let me down. They can be buggered for all I care, I have no use for them,” Sansa declared and leaned over towards the mug.

Gaping at proper Sansa's use of language, Jon almost unthinking brought the mug to Sansa's lips and poured her another drink. Watching in fascination as her eyes closed in delight, and the way she ran her tongue across her lips to get anything that was left over. Feeling a little too exposed under Sansa's stare, Jon took a healthy drink to banish the unhealthy thoughts invading his mind.

Taking the mug, Sansa looked inside and frowned at her discovery, “Looks like there is only a little bit left, so tell me one more of your ideas before we retire.”

Jon nodded, feeling a deep disappointment their talk was coming to an end, “I want to lay stone over the roads we build, like the ones I hear they have King's Landing or Lanisport. That way it will help keep trees and bushes from growing over top it.”

“Jon making roads will be work enough. To make and lay stone for hundreds and hundreds of leagues will take years if not decades,” Sansa said bewildered and thinking out of all Jon's ideas this might be the most unbelievable. Sure she could see the benefits for such a project, but the amount of time, effort, and resources to make it happen!

“May be such a thing could not be completed in our lifetime, but it is something our... future generations could finish and expand upon. Above everything else, it could be something we are remembered for,” Jon went quiet for a moment and Sansa thought she could see a thousand and one emotions in the deep stare of his grey eyes as he looked at the map. 

Sansa thought he might be done talking, but Jon turned to her and took her hand in his, “Stopping the Long Night is important and I pray to the gods we get through it, but if we do I don't want to be remembered for it. Although I know I will, seeing as how you pointed out how the Free Folk feel about me. What I am trying to say is I don't to be remembered for just that, because it will once again be about me killing and destroying. Even my resurrection is about me cheating death and vengeance thereafter.”

Jon looked away from her almost in shame, “Tell me is that selfish? Do I reach for too much?”

He went to let his hand slip away from her, but Sansa caught and squeezed tightly in a silent demand for him to face her. When that didn't work, Sansa sat the ale down the last bit left inside forgotten, and used the hand to grasp Jon's chin and turned him to look at her.

When Jon's penetrating gaze looked at her, she swallowed involuntarily at the naked intensity and vulnerability she found there. Before her stood a man so strong and honorable and good, seemingly looking to her to pass judgment on his soul. To give him the validation he has been seeking his entire life. Or to give him the damnation to so many others have given him in his existence, which shamefully included her lady mother... and to extent their own lord father who allowed Jon to doom himself to frozen hell and never named him a legitimate son. Even she is not without culpability, even if the conclusions she had made were of childish stupidity in seeing what proper courtesies and her lady mother expected of her. Not looking for herself, at the person put beneath the mantle of bastard that the world put upon him from the moment of his first breath.

She wants to weep then, though she is not sure it is the weight of the task Jon asks of her or pure joy at the thought of such a man looking for her acceptance of him. She wants to yell at him that she is not worthy of the value he is putting in her. That she, Sansa Stark, is more broken than he is. That her first instinct is to look at the world in cold calculations, leaving behind or moving the things that get in her way. It is why she was able to accept that Rickon was dead way before the first arrow flew from the bastard's hands. It is why she does not hold out hope that either Bran or Arya still breathe, because the world has beaten the hope out of her and she accepts it for the grim place it is. For so many years all she has been met with are monsters, and she fears that they have turned her into one as well.

That being reunited at Castle Black with him, or taking back their home together, those are oddities in the world and not the norm. While being around Jon makes her cautiously optimistic, that maybe her world view may not be completely right, with his touches full of love for her or his talk of a united North and a better world. No, Jon should should not look to her to be his paragon of virtue, but she understands. She is all he has left, and Jon is the same to her.

 

Sansa also knows that Jon is looking to her because she is the last Stark. That he does not feel worthy of being the Lord of Winterfell, much less King in the North. He wants to know if what he does pleases the ghosts of their dead father and brother. She can't speak for the dead, but she wonders if it would be enough for him if she told him that he pleased her.

Maybe it is the ale, maybe it is Jon's talk of a picture of future that she wants, maybe it is his grey eyes of longing that touches something she thought died long ago... maybe it is because she broken.

Whatever it is, it doesn't stop her from dragging his lips to hers and trying to convey all the things things she can't put into words. Maybe the ale has gotten to him to, because Jon doesn't pull away, and so she pulls him closer. With each movement of her lips, and tentative exploration of her tongue she hopes she gives him the validation he seeks. She wants her fervid touches and kiss fills whatever void he has inside.

Because that is exactly what he is doing to her, filling an ache that has been empty and hollow since she saw their father's blood spilled at the Sept of Baelor. An ache that only increased in size every time Joffrey touched her or shamed her. That nearly broke her when she learned the fate of her mother and brother. That actually did break each night Ramsay raped and tormented her. 

She should not want this, not after all she has witnessed. She doesn't think she deserves this after all she has helped cause. But as he picks her up and sits her on top of that goddamned map that started this and kisses her harder, she decides that she goddamn wants this. If the world has taught her nothing else it is to take all she can get.

She is not going to question that she been increasingly finding Jon handsome in the months they have spent together, that he has more than a passing resemblance to her lord father that will make everybody from the lords to the small folk talk. That maybe Jon does look like their father, and this is her way of finding acceptance she'll never have for accidentally betraying him.

Groaning as Jon lays her back on the desk and kisses the side of her neck, she knows the world will think this wrong. The same world that allowed a young girl to be stripped and beaten while people laughed and jeered at her, that was deaf to her cries as she screamed for mercy so many nights with Ramsay. As Sansa rubs Jon's hardening cock through his breeches, she thinks the world and all the people in it can go fuck off. This feels good and she wants it.

As Jon runs a palm over her breast beneath her dress, causing a whimper full of a need that has never been satisfied, she wonders if he is as broken as she. She has heard the comparisons made between her and her lady mother, it is what makes Petyr lust after. She wonders if Jon's want of her, is his way of getting the acceptance of a woman who despised him. She hopes he sees something else in her too, even if it is the case. For she sees something more in him than their father.

Sansa knows this wrong in so many ways, but she wants it and it feels good so she will not question it. Soon she will push Jon away and claim drunkenness, and tell him to carry her to the her bed. When he tries to leave she will drag him into bed with her. He will protest and talk about servants seeing them and about propriety. She will answer back 'propriety be damned and the servants too' and kiss him until his protests die away.

For Jon had promised she would hate him come morning, and he was going to there when she found out the truth of it.

**Author's Note:**

> So there is my simple idea that sort of snowballed into a monster.


End file.
